Wrath and Ruin
by Min Daae
Summary: Maglor after Feanor's death. He wants to go back, but Curufin sees his brothers falling apart and won't allow it. He won't allow it. Maglor has Forebodings, and is a Reluctant Dragon.


_And looking out from the slopes of Ered Wethrin with his last sight he beheld the far off peaks of Thangorodrim, mightiest of the towers of Middle-earth, and knew with the foreknowledge of death that no power of the Noldor would ever overthrow them; but he cursed the name of Morgoth thrice, and laid it upon his sons to hold to their oath, and to avenge their father. Then he died; but he had neither burial nor tomb, for so fiery was his spirit that as it sped his body fell to ash, and was borne away like smoke; and his likeness has never again appeared in Arda, neither has his spirit left the halls of Mandos. Thus ended the mightiest of the Noldor, of whose deeds came both their greatest renown and their most grievous woe._

–_The Death of Fëanor, p. 122, __The Silmarillion_

And with his last breath, Fëanor burned. His body melted into ash, the wind blew the ash away, and before any of them could react with more than a cut off sound of shock, there was nothing left of the Elf who had ruled their entire lives from the day they were born.

Not even ash.

~.~

The night was dark but full of stars where Maglor sat looking up at the sky, somewhere between thoughtful and unhappy but too blank to really be either. He thought he was alone until he heard the whisper of a footstep behind him. He didn't have to look up.

"Tyelkormo."

A bit of a sigh, and his younger brother sat down beside him, loose and long-limbed. "What now, Cáno?" His voice was hushed. Maglor felt his mouth twist and was grateful that in the darkness it wouldn't be seen.

"That would be Maitimo's prerogative. No doubt he will hold to our father's last command." He hoped that Tyelko wouldn't catch the undertone of bitter resentment in his voice. Unluckily, he did. The frown was audible.

"What would you have us do?"

Maglor resisted the childish urge to pull his knees into his chest. "I know not. We can hardly go back, of course; that much we can be sure of."

"Do you think we should go back?" His younger brother sounded troubled. Maglor sighed, feeling a twinge of annoyance.

"I don't know," he shot back, "What do _you _think?" As he had predicted, there was a brief silence. Tyelko looked blank.

"…I don't know. We swore…" _He swore,_ Maglor felt the urge to correct, he_ swore and so we did, and now he's dead, and how many of us will follow? I don't want to build the funeral pyres of my brothers. And I will – it is too much of a miracle to hope that all of us can make it through the years unscathed if we follow the path our father has set for us._

He took a deep breath and spoke to his own surprise. "And who will hold us to it? The Valar hold our oath abomination. We can fight Morgoth despite it and without turning to it. After what we have done to Nolo's host, do you think there would be much of an outcry if we were to forswear our oath? Like as much we will never see them again; like as much they have stricken our names from the record. Why stay true to an oath that all protest as being against nature – that has led to our curse and likely will lead to our deaths?"

He realized too late that his voice had grown loud enough for their scattered brethren to hear. The silence was profound.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kurvo stand from where he'd been kneeling over the ashes that were all that remained of their father. "How can you," he said, and Maglor could hear his voice shaking. "How can you _say _that? You're saying that we should just _give up _now that he's – that our father is _dead?_" Kurvo's voice dropped to a hiss. "You say that we can forswear our oath and none will object. Doesn't it matter to you that we swore at all?"

He didn't say it, but the word was there in the fury of his brother's tone, and it didn't escape Maglor. _Traitor, _Kurvo accused, and momentarily Maglor cringed.

"Kurvo – I'm sure that's not what he meant." Tyelko's voice was uncertain. "He was only saying-"

His younger brother's voice cut through like a knife. "Our father deemed the Oath worth his life; what makes you think it isn't worth yours, or mine, or all of ours-"

"How can you say that?" Moryo wheeled around, his mouth set. "What kind of brother are you if you think our lives are worthless-"

"Worth less than _his!_"

"_Stop!_ This isn't – all of you! Don't do this. Not now." Maitimo stood, his expression suddenly ruthlessly determined. "We need to hold together, now more than ever. Cáno is right. We can't expect support from anyone but our own people. And without each other, we probably can't expect even that." He paused. "I don't want to lose any of you. Not for any reason."

"You're the eldest now," Tyelko said, after a long, quiet moment, his voice heavy and resigned. "What do you think we should do?"

His eldest brother looked down, and for a moment Maglor dared to hope that they could end this now.

"First and foremost," said Maitimo slowly, "We must hold off the Enemy, drive him back, and – avenge our father's death." Maglor closed his eyes and held his breath, admiring his older brother for offering Kurvo something that he surely couldn't resist: revenge. "This place is our home now," Maitimo continued. "And as such we will protect it."

He paused, and took a slow breath. Maglor felt his heart clench. "Secondly…our father's Oath." He lowered his eyes. "Kurvo is right. We have a duty to fulfill, and we can't – I can't – let his death be in vain."

_No, _Maglor wanted to say. _No, brother please, don't take this road. _

But loyalty stayed him, as it always had.

"We can't stay here," Maitimo continued. "We need to keep moving. Find a safe place to camp and regroup. Then we'll talk about what to do next." He stood, straightening, and Maglor imagined he could almost see him lifting the burden of leadership onto his shoulders. "Gather those that are left under your commands. We'll march south at daybreak."

Tyelko was the first to stand, earnest and quick as ever, and, Maglor knew, glad to have a direction to obey. "Yes, Nelyo," he said, and bowed. "You'll lead us well. I know it. You already are." Caranthir stood next, and reached out to clasp his brother's arm, and Pityo reached out and grasped his shoulder. Maglor watched them, all gathered around his older brother, like everything was going to be all right now.

He felt, horribly, like he was the only one who saw their doom approaching.

Maglor stood last, and looked past Maitimo to Kurvo, still standing, and caught his eyes narrowed and gleaming.


End file.
